


heartbeat

by elisela



Series: serendipity [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, background buddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: She hasn’t been this flustered since—well, since she asked out Eddie. “So,” she says, busying herself with making coffee, “how long have you worked with Mr. Diaz?”Lena makes a face at her. “With Eddie? Few years. I gotta ask, though—is Buckley as lovesick as he is?”She grabs onto the life ring being offered to her. Buck is solid ground, a safe topic of conversation while she tries to get her wildly unchecked attraction to Lena under control. “He’s a kicked puppy,” she says, “I hope Eddie’s doing better with this than he is.”
Relationships: Ana Flores/Lena Bosko
Series: serendipity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901377
Comments: 14
Kudos: 118





	heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spinningincircles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/gifts), [extasiswings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/gifts), [letmetellyouaboutmyfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/gifts), [blueboxtardis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxtardis/gifts).



> I wrote Ana/Lena into "at the right time" as a joke ... and then I was like, hold up, I ship this. So. Here we are.

She hasn’t been this flustered since—well, since she asked out Eddie. “So,” she says, busying herself with making coffee, “how long have you worked with Mr. Diaz?”

Lena makes a face at her. “With Eddie? Few years. I gotta ask, though—is Buckley as lovesick as he is?”

She grabs onto the life ring being offered to her. Buck is solid ground, a safe topic of conversation while she tries to get her wildly unchecked attraction to Lena under control. “He’s a kicked puppy,” she says, “I hope Eddie’s doing better with this than he is.”

“He’s twenty times more annoying now than he was when they were dating,” Lena says flatly. “All I had to put up with then was him being all dopey whenever he was texting the guy; now I have a running countdown to how many more days left in the school year in my head. For my _own_ sanity. He’s remarkably tight-lipped about the rest of it, but he’s pretty clearly unhappy.”

“Oh, Buck won’t stop talking about how miserable he is,” she says, handing her the travel mug. “It’s just background noise at this point. How many days do we have left, anyway?”

“Sixty-four,” Lena says after a moment, and when she takes a sip of the coffee and moans, all of Ana’s nerve endings are alight.

“So far, I see no budding Monets or Picassos,” someone says behind her, and Ana jumps at the unexpected noise. “Do you suffer through this every year?”

She turns, ready to admonish whoever it is—what kind of parent comes into the art fair if they think it’s suffering? It’s not like it’s mandatory—only to see Lena grinning at her, eyes crinkling at the corner. Her long hair is damp, and Ana wants to lean in and kiss the gloss off her lips. “I don’t think it’s suffering,” she says, smiling back. “They get really excited about it, it’s sweet.”

“If you say so,” Lena says, pulling her hair over one shoulder and tugging at it. “Do you happen to have a hair tie? Mine snapped, and I don’t like having it down.”

“In my room,” she says, looking around for Buck; she’s supposed to be giving the welcome speech in a few minutes, but he owes her a few favors, and she’s not above passing it off. She catches his eye and motions to the door, makes a pleading face when he frowns and sighs, and leaves before he can make his way over to her. “You came with Eddie?”

“I came to make sure Eddie didn’t do anything stupid,” Lena says, following her down the hall. “He’s been talking about proposing—well, he’s been saying shit like ‘when we’re married’. Slow down, buddy, you’re technically single.”

Ana laughs and guides her into the room, digs through her cabinets to find a new comb and pack of hair ties. It’s such a familiar motion that the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. “Want me to braid it for you?” She feels her cheeks heat up and stays turned away for a moment, opens her mouth to apologize—

“Yeah,” Lena says. “I would actually really like that.”

“Buck says you fight,” she says. She imagines Lena glowing with sweat in the ring, tied-back hair falling out around her face, breathless; she wonders what it would be like to watch her fight men bigger than her, to watch that sort of power and control. Thrilling, she thinks.

Lena twists her mouth up and shakes her head. “Good to know that Eddie can’t follow the first rule of the fight club,” she says, laughing. “I don’t do it often, but yeah, it’s an outlet. I tried a gym but the men hold back.”

“Maybe I could come sometime,” Ana says. “I’d like to see it.”

“It’s no place for someone like you,” Lena says, draining the rest of her beer. Ana watches her thumb rub at the corner of the label, her slim, long fingers dragging the corner of the paper down until it started to peel and roll. 

“Someone like me?”

“Pretty,” Lena says, smiling. “Couldn’t fight and watch out for you at the same time.”

Ana laughs. “I have four brothers,” she says, “and I grew up in Boyle Heights. I can watch out for myself.” The song shifts into something new and she pushes her drink aside and reaches for Lena, pulling her hand from the beer bottle. “Let’s dance.”

“I don’t dance,” Lena says, but she follows when Ana leads them out to the floor, laughing as they trip over each other at first, fingers brushing against arms and shoulders and finally, Ana spins into her when the music changes, presses her back up to Lena’s chest and rests an arm on the one that Lena has around her waist.

It’s been awhile since she’s been with a woman; since college, since she shared a dorm with Macey Robbins and spent four years unlearning the attitudes she’d grown up with and discovering herself, but it hadn’t felt like this back then. Macey was fun, but private; their relationship was wrapped in Ana’s guilt and hesitance in the beginning, her attraction an itch that would crawl down her arms until it could be scratched, and once satiated, would disappear until the next time. Lena, though—Ana hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her since they met. Lena is fire that sings through her veins, a slow burn that’s raging now that it’s got room to breathe, and she doesn’t want to wait anymore.

She brings her hand up to cup the back of Lena’s head, turning her cheek to whisper in her ear. “Come home with me.”

Lena drives them; Ana keeps a hand on her, trailing her fingers up Lena’s arm as she grips the stick shift, scratching her nails down pale skin, delighting in the way Lena tenses under her fingertips. She feels her desire as a heartbeat, walks on trembling legs up to her front door to let them in, falls into Lena with a sigh as she tilts her head up to meet her lips. Lena kisses her slowly, lips parting, and Ana pulls them onto the couch, sinking down onto Lena’s lap and pulling her shirt over her head. 

She mouths against Lena’s neck as she trails her hands down strong arms, hitching her hips forward when Lena’s hand tangles in her hair and pulls, the feel of it sending a shiver through her. “Touch me,” she whispers against her skin, sucking Lena’s earlobe into her mouth. “Lena, please.”

“Bossy,” Lena murmurs, and suddenly Ana’s moving, her back pressed up against Lena’s chest, just like when they were dancing. “I like it.” Her hands cup Ana’s breasts, rolling her nipples through her bra; the rough scratch of the lace against her skin is in sharp contrast to the open-mouthed kisses Lena presses against her shoulders and the back of her neck.

She allows herself to be overwhelmed at the feeling, listens to the soft noises Lena makes behind her, but it’s not enough; her hips are rocking, searching out friction, and when Lena bites down hard on her neck, she can’t take it anymore. She covers Lena’s hand with hers and drags it down, over her stomach and onto her thigh and back up, bunching her skirt up as she moves their joined hands between her legs. 

The first touch of Lena’s fingers against her clit is electric; she pushes her hips down and tries not to listen to the sound of her own gasps filling the room, just holds Lena’s hand against her and moves in the way she likes, trying to focus on too many things at once—the sound of Lena’s stuttered breathing, her fingers trailing over Ana’s chest, her fingers doing exactly what Ana shows her. 

“Jesus, I didn’t expect this,” Lena says, and Ana laughs. She knows how she comes off—proper, calm, compliant—the men she’s slept with have always been surprised, too.

“I know what I like,” she says. She picks up Lena’s free hand and brings it to her lips, kissing her fingertips and sucking them into her mouth, flicking her tongue against them. 

“God, keep showing me,” Lena says. “Next time I’ll show you what my tongue can do.”

 _Next time_ , she thinks, giving in to the tightness building in her belly, imagining Lena crawling between her legs, weaving her hand into her hair while she licks her, _next time, next time_ ; she clenches her thighs together as she comes, gasping, but Lena’s fingers don’t stop moving until she slides away. 

She pulls Lena’s shirt over her head and moves her, tugging her pants off before pushing at her until she’s laying on the couch, and she moves on top of her, straddling her thighs and just—looks, for a moment. 

Even in the dim room, the flush is apparent on Lena’s cheeks, hair coming undone from the braid Ana had put it in earlier, her skin smooth and soft despite the hard muscle underneath. She looks like a sculpture, a work of art that should be venerated and studied, documented and preserved, timeless—and only for Ana’s eyes, at this moment. “You’re gorgeous,” Ana says, leaning forward and tracing patterns onto her stomach before bending down to slip the straps of her bra off her shoulders and kissing them, pulling it down until she’s able to suck Lena’s nipple into her mouth. She knows it must be driving Lena crazy; she feels her own desire growing again with the noises Lena makes and she shifts, getting Lena’s thigh between her legs and grinding down. 

Lena moans; it might be her name, might be just a broken sound, but the strained “please” that falls from her mouth is unmistakable, and Ana works her hand in down in between Lena’s legs and stroking circles around her clit until she’s shaking and gasping below her, rubbing herself on Lena’s thigh desperately, chasing the high of another orgasm.

She collapses afterwards, resting her head on Lena’s shoulder while Lena’s hands stroke up and down her back slowly. “Do you want to stay?”

“Yeah,” Lena says. “I really do.”

“Don’t be mad,” Lena says, and she’s about to ask why she would be when they turn the corner and Eddie is standing there, arms crossed, glaring. “Look, I know you said you can take care of yourself and trust me, I believe you. But it’ll—”

“It’s fine,” she says, cutting Lena off with a kiss. “Besides, it’ll be nice to know someone else.”

“Don’t distract me before a fight,” Lena whispers. “Have fun with moody Diaz over here. Not even homemade cookies cheered him up today. I’ll make it up to you later.” She presses a sweater into Ana’s hands. “Here, it’s supposed to get a little cold tonight.” She kisses her again and walks off, and after a moment, Eddie’s hand hovers over her shoulder until she smiles at him, and he lets it fall against her skin and guides her the other way.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” he says, and she thinks she hears a little admiration in his voice. “I have to change my perception of teachers now.”

“Buck didn’t do that?” she asks, and Eddie laughs. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”

“Buck’s a firefighter,” Eddie says. “The teaching is just an act.”

It’s an apt description, she thinks; they pass by a table set up with drinks and someone holds one out for her and Eddie pushes it away before she can decline. “I really can take care of myself,” she says, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t doubt it, you handle Bosko just fine,” he says. “It’s Buck I’m worried about. He would kick my ass if anything happened to you, so please just deal with the overprotectiveness.”

“He offered, you know,” she says, grinning. “When I asked you out in September and I told him that you turned me down. He said you were probably a dick and he’d kick your ass if I wanted him to.”

Eddie cringes. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” he says. “But hey, I hear I’m single now, so name the day.”

She tugs the sweater she’s still holding on and slides her arm through his as they lean against a truck. “Oh, I’m so sorry Mr. Diaz,” she says, “but I’m dating someone now and—I think it’s getting serious.”

She’s teasing him, but he looks over at her and his smile is soft. “Yeah, I’ve heard that, too,” he says, and she feels a warmth come over her that has nothing to do with Lena’s sweater.


End file.
